


Palmer's Kiss

by AgentOfShip, sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, CW: Bullying, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fanart, Marvel TV Bang, Soulmate Sex, words on palm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 07:19:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18734272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOfShip/pseuds/AgentOfShip, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Academy Era AU.  Fitz and Jemma are newly eighteen and starting the next phases of their lives at SHIELD Academy. Complicating matters is that they both discover they have soulmates. Neither Jemma nor Fitz have a clue who their mates could be, and they're not sure they want to know as they form a friendship with each other that could easily turn into so much more.beta'd by GortWords by sunalsoArt by @antoine-tripplet (chapter 1) and AgentofShip (chapter 4)





	1. Collision

Beautiful banner by [@antoine-tripplet](https://antoine-triplett.tumblr.com/), their tumblr is a wealth of amazing things and their icons are beyond gorgeous. Thank you for helping to save this bang for me! 

 

Chapter One: Collision 

 

**

_ The First Day of Class _

The first day of a new semester was always Jemma’s favorite. 

There were so many possibilities, so much to learn. This year there was even a new school, the SHIELD Academy. She was not quite eighteen, but would be in less than two weeks, and was in America for the first time. 

She woke up before her alarm went off, had a shower, put on the outfit she’d set out the night before, ensured all her notebooks, pens, and highlighters were in her satchel, and headed down to the cafeteria for a small breakfast and her morning tea. 

Arriving fifteen minutes early for her first class, she picked a seat in the front row, ready to learn. The other students at the Academy, especially SciTech, were also high achievers of course, but Jemma soon realized as she’d sat through her classes that even here, she stood out. 

It made her happy, as did all her neat notes with appropriate color coding. 

Jemma wished she stood out more in the hallways. It was a zoo between classes, people hustling between rooms and buildings, and she wasn’t very tall, and other cadets kept bumping into her or, in one case, almost running her over. 

It was a relief when it was her break, and she could curl up in the corner of the cafeteria with a salad and a textbook. 

Her first class after lunch was Chemistry, actually Advanced Electrochemistry, but it was the only chemistry course she had that semester, so everything was simply labeled ‘chemistry’ on her study and to-do lists. 

Sitting patiently in the front row, her notebook ready to go, she waited as the rest of the classroom filled up. She looked up when the door to room burst open with a minute to go, and a young man entered. His hair was a mop of wayward curls, he was panting, and he groaned when the only free desk was the one next to hers. He flopped down in it, yanked a notebook out of his knapsack, and then fished around in the bottom of the bag before groaning again. 

He was dressed in slacks and a plaid button up that wasn’t tucked in. 

“Hey,” he said, leaning towards her. “Do you have a pen I can use? Mine’s seemed to run off.” His Scottish accent was a surprise, as were how very blue his eyes were. Though what kind of a mess of a student didn’t manage to have a pen on the first day of class, Jemma had no idea. “Uh, my name’s Fitz,” he said, his gaze fixed on her face. 

“Jemma Simmons,” she said, selecting one of her extra pens and handing it to him. His fingers were warm as they brushed against hers. “You can keep it. I have lots.”  She gave him less than a week before he washed out. 

“Thanks, Simmons.” 

The prof entered a moment later and handed out the syllabus while he launched into a lecture. After the first few minutes, he started asking questions, poking at the class’s knowledge base. It seemed he wanted to make sure everyone belonged. Much to Jemma’s amazement, Fitz’s hand was in the air as often as hers. 

It irked her. Jemma tried upping the quality of her replies, but as her answers grew more intricate and detailed, so did his. 

Professor Kellerman kept grinning at them, as it quickly became clear that not only was Fitz incredibly bright and knowledgeable, he was also competitive. 

Jemma groaned inwardly. Terrific. 

Fitz didn’t even look at her as the class dragged on. Obviously, now that he’d used her for her pen, he needn’t bother with her anymore. 

She wanted to scream. It was bad enough being a young woman as brilliant as she was because everyone overlooked her, just like in the mad dash in the hallways. Only, in this case, it was worse. She was being actively ignored. 

If only was wasn’t so interesting. From the way he was answering the questions, she knew he was a genius. A cute one. 

Jemma rolled her eyes at herself. Oh, honestly. He was a prick. And if she wanted top place on the honor roll, she was looking at her competition. 

When class ended, Fitz didn’t even say goodbye, just gathered up his bag, stuck his notebook into it, and disappeared into the throng of students. At least chemistry only met on Mondays and Fridays, with a lab on Wednesday. She’d only have to put up with him twice a week. They wouldn’t be finding out their lab partners until the following Monday, but there was a homework assignment to complete by Friday. 

Jemma was sure she could finish it that night. It was only a twenty-problem set. 

Her other afternoon course was a required one, having to do with SHIELD operation techniques. It looked as if Fitz was only in her Chemistry class so far, which was good. She didn’t know if she could stand to be endlessly snubbed by him. He was so infuriating, and she’d known him for less than an hour. 

After dinner, she returned to her room, which was a single like all the Academy dorm rooms. Though she still had to share a bathroom. Someday, she would be very, very happy to have her own flat, with yellow curtains and a blue rug in the kitchen. Maybe a breakfast nook.

She sat down with her homework, completing the rudimentary stuff first before tackling the more interesting work from her bio and chemistry classes. 

The clock on her desk flipped over to ten pm when she was halfway through the chemistry problems. They were somewhat time-consuming, but not very difficult. At least in her opinion. 

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to decide if she wanted to brew another cup of tea when heat shot across her right palm. It wasn’t enough to make her yell, but it wasn’t comfortable either. She dropped her pencil, and it rolled off her desk to clatter to the floor. 

Her entire arm felt weird and prickly. It made her wince. 

Bad timing for a cramp. Jemma hadn’t thought she’d done an unusual amount of writing that day, but maybe she’d been tenser than normal because it was the first day. 

Massaging her palm with her other hand, she turned her right over to make sure there wasn’t a splinter or something in it. 

Jemma did yelp this time. 

There was writing, in neat block letters, on her palm. Her left thumb was obscuring the words, and she didn’t want to move it. 

Oh no. 

No, no, no, no. 

She couldn’t have a soulmate. Not her. She was destined to be something more than someone’s other half. 

Of course, she knew about soulmates. Everyone did. Roughly forty percent of the population worldwide was born with a perfect genetic partner somewhere in the world. You didn’t know they existed until you touched, but then one of their thoughts would appear each night on your palm for the rest of your, or their, life. 

And once your palm touched your soulmate’s, there would be a month when all the two of you did was be physically intimate. It was supposed to be nature’s way of getting its genetic matches to procreate. 

Jemma couldn’t afford to spend several weeks doing nothing but boinking some random guy that fate thought she’d make good babies with, along with having to deal with him for the rest of her life. He could be as dumb as a post or think she should be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. 

Shaking, and keeping the words obscured with her left thumb, Jemma abandoned her desk chair and went to sit on her bed. 

There’d been so many new people she’d met that day, so many that’d bumped into her in the hallway or brushed past her in the cafeteria. It could be any of them. Hopefully not the oaf that’d almost trampled her. 

She closed her eyes tight and removed her thumb from her right palm. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart, but when that seemed to be a lost cause, she decided it was like ripping off a plaster. She was only prolonging the inevitable. 

Jemma forced herself to read the words.  _ She’s a goddess. _

That wasn’t so bad. Unless the bloke was imagining she had wings. Or sticking her on a pedestal because he thought she was pretty. 

Jemma sighed and grabbed her new mobile. It would be stupidly early in the morning for her parents, but she needed her mum. 

The line rang for far too long before someone picked it up, and Jemma was sniffling and trying to keep tears from dripping down her face.

“Jemma?” her mum asked. 

“Oh, Mum.” 

“What’s wrong, honey? Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

“I have a soulmate,” she blurted. 

“Then why are you calling me?” Her mother sounded amused. 

“I don’t know who he is! I don’t know if I want to know who he is. What if he’s terrible?” 

“Oh, honey, stop. Fate knew what it was doing when it gave me your father. There’s no reason to think it won’t provide you with an equally compatible soulmate.” Her mother and father had met when they were twenty-eight and had been inseparable since then. “I know movies and the news are always showing the worst examples of what people do when they find out there’s someone meant for them. But it’s usually not like that.” 

“I don’t want to belong to someone.” 

“I know, but he’ll belong to you just as much. You’ll feel different when you figure out who it is. I promise.” 

“But my grades.” 

“Why don’t you look up your school’s policy and accommodations for soulmates. I’m sure you’ll be excused and allowed to make things up. Are you still taking your birth control?” 

“Yes, Mum.” Jemma sighed. “But it’s for regulating my cycle. I don’t like surprises.” 

“You never have. But I bet this will be the best gift you’ll ever receive.” 

Jemma wished she felt as confident as her mother. “I’ll let you know when I find out anything more.” 

“Okay. I sent a package for your birthday. It should be there in time.” 

“Thanks, Mum.” 

“Now get some rest…can I ask what it says?” 

Jemma groaned. “She’s a goddess.” 

“Doesn’t that sound nice.” 

“I guess. I’ll talk to you later, love you.” After hanging up the phone, and feeling a little better having told her mum about it, Jemma returned to her desk and pulled up the web browser on her laptop. It would be in her best interest to be knowledgeable about the Academy’s regulations in case she ever did figure out who was her soulmate.

****

_ Earlier That Day _

Fitz was completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of people on the campus for the SHIELD Academy. And finding the right building and classrooms was an issue. 

He almost didn’t make his electrochem class, rushing in immediately before the lecture started, and then being stuck in the front row, which he hated. It was always too much attention from the instructor. 

Collapsing in the chair, he glanced up to find an absolutely stunning woman frowning at him. Her dark eyes were clear and bright and her brown curls, drawn up in a ponytail, were straight out of his fantasies. 

He forgot where he was for a moment, belatedly going after his notebook and then discovering he’d managed to lose his pen. 

Leaning over, he asked the girl for one, and she frowned even harder before giving him a pen he could keep. That was nice of her. Her fingers had been chilly, and  a shiver went up his arm. He was worried he was developing a crush. Not what he needed. 

Fitz wasn’t expecting a big challenge out of the class, it was more or less up his alley, and he’d already read most of the textbook. The questions the prof threw out were easy, and Fitz raised his hand to answer. He wanted to show off for Simmons. She probably was a grade-orientated sort of person judging from her highlighters and perfect notes, and he knew he didn’t have a ton else going for him besides his brain, but it might be enough to get her to talk to him. 

It turned out Jemma was smart. Very, very smart. Fitz found himself having to really think to keep up with her and having to push himself if he wanted to impress her. 

He gave up on not having a crush, she even smelled nice. He couldn’t turn and look at her again because he’d probably end up popping a stiffy in the middle of class and he didn’t need that. 

When the bell rang, he rushed out of the room before he could embarrass himself by drooling on her. Fitz plowed through a group of students on his way to history class but was relieved to find he could sit at the very back and that the class was so boring that he didn’t have to pay much attention to it. He was instead reliving everything that his chemistry goddess had done and said. 

Fitz grabbed a sandwich and crisps for supper and took them to his room so he could start in on his homework. He’d been planning to get online and game for a mental break, but if he wanted to have any hope of getting Simmons to notice him, he couldn’t just do well in his classes, he was going to have to excel. Plus, he needed to find just the right thing to say to her. It had to make him sound suave and intelligent. 

Her being British was a help. Maybe they had similar tastes in sweets or telly. 

Fitz did his chemistry homework first, double checking everything three times, before moving on to his required courses and advanced robotics work. He was diagramming an electric circuit when the clock on his wall beeped that it was ten. 

He barely looked at it before returning to his project. It’d been the first day and first robotics lecture, and he already had to design a working model. It was leagues more interesting than any other class.

A sharp pain lanced from his right palm up his arm, making him fumble his pencil. He shook his hand and flipped it over. There was writing in a neat script on his palm _. He’s a genius. A cute one. _

Fitz blinked at his hand until what he was seeing registered. He had a soulmate. Sometime today he’d knocked his shoulder into or brushed his arm against someone, and they were his soulmate, the one person in the entire world that was meant for him. 

He’d never thought…he’d always assumed he was destined to be alone. That the kind of love that came from a soulmate wasn’t something somebody as geeky and awkward as him would ever know. 

Fitz groaned and slumped in his chair. A soulmate. One he didn’t know. There went any chance he had to go out with Simmons. She wouldn’t want him when he was looking around for whatever girl was genetically compatible with him. 

It didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends, though, right? 

Maybe that would be better anyway with less chance of him getting hurt. 

Could his soulmate be her? But that was ridiculous. She was perfect. Her soulmate, if she had one, was probably some six-foot-two lacrosse player named Brad. 

Though if he never shook her hand, he could pretend it was her. 

That was absurd. He needed to get a grip. 

Fitz wanted Simmons as a colleague. A friend to bounce ideas off of. Any groping would have been secondary and not happening at all now. 

Fitz just had to impress her enough, and then they could hang out, maybe even work together on some projects. It’d be nice to have someone who’s brain moved as quickly as his to discuss theories with. 

Plan set, he straightened up in his chair and yanked a sheet of paper out of his notebook. He had to make a list of what he needed to do before Friday when he’d be sitting next to her again. Starting with a haircut. Maybe cologne. 

His soulmate might appreciate it too if he ran into her again soon. The best way to find her would be to shake everyone’s hands, but then everyone would know he had a soulmate. That didn’t sound like something he was ready to broadcast to the world. 

Emotions were swirling around inside him. He abstractly knew he would fall head over heels for whatever girl was thinking he was cute. 

Fitz’s brain stuttered. 

Someone thought he was cute. He’d bet his soulmate was also cute. She could be soft-spoken, maybe into engineering too? A good kisser. 

He was going to be kissing someone. 

Having sex with them. Fitz’s heart rate sped up. This unknown girl would be his world, and she’d want to be with him. Touch him. 

Fitz added condoms to his list of things to get. 

Abandoning his homework, he flopped on his bed and stared at his hand. 

Somewhere, a girl was doing the same thing. What would her hand say? He hoped it was something besides:  _ she needs to watch where she’s going _ . That would be embarrassing. 

The problem was the enigmatic Jemma Simmons had eclipsed all the other girls he'd seen at the Academy. 

Fitz groaned and covered his face. 

This was very confusing. 

He got ready for bed, kicking his dirty clothes over to the vicinity of his hamper and leaving his desk light on so he could see the words on his palm as he fell asleep. 

His soulmate was his future. His very frightening, unknown future. 

 


	2. Orbits

_ Friday, the same week _

Fitz’s eyes opened and he groaned as his cock pulsed. He’d come in his sleep again. The dream had been a nice, if highly unlikely scenario, in which Simmons was kneeling and blowing him in front of their entire chem class. 

He had no idea how that’d actually feel, but his subconscious had supplied: bloody wonderful. 

Tossing his covers back, he gingerly stood and stripped his pajama bottoms and boxers off, then hunted down a rag and a bottle of water to clean up with. 

His body seemed to be very aware he had a soulmate and was sexually primed because by all rights he should be locked in a room with her while they mauled each other. Not doing so was very confusing to the lizard part of his brain since soulmates were a basic component of almost every species. The fact that the soulmarks, which showed up in diverse ways, such as birds displaying matching colors in their plumage, had evolved into it being specific words in humans was a heavily studied phenomenon. 

Fitz was grateful for it. Everything that had shown up so far had been very nice and sweet. He wrote them down in a notebook, and it was a big mood booster every time. It wasn’t fun being younger than everyone else, along with short, slim, and nerdy looking. His soulmate’s praise, such as the one from last night which read,  _ such lovely eyes _ , made him feel much better. 

The problem he was having was that he didn’t know what his soulmate looked like, so his mind had substituted Jemma Simmons for the unknown girl. Which meant that the avalanche of perverse thoughts he was having all starred her, who he’d be seeing today right after lunch. That was going to be awkward. 

At least he was ready, with his hair trimmed and unwrinkled clothes to wear. He put three pens in his bag, just in case. Another highly unlikely scenario would be that Jemma would need to borrow one. 

Fitz had zero idea what to do. Simmons was amazing, he wanted to get to know her, but there was this complete mystery woman who would be a part of his life, and she must be incredibly kind and sweet to think such nice things about him. 

Mostly, as he drifted through his morning classes, he was thinking of every terrible Hallmark channel movie about soulmates where they didn’t know who each other were, like two people brushing past each other on the subway. The characters were always super into finding this love of their life, and it ended up in things like a giant banner being hung on a building across from the subway entrance, or a guy hijacking a microphone at a baseball game. 

Fitz was appreciative of those grand gestures, but part of him felt silly about it. Real life didn’t work like that. Taking out an ad in the school paper and asking for any girls with an unknown soulmate to come see him would only make his existence more miserable and point him out to more bullies so they could poke fun at him. 

He had to trust in fate, if he was meant to know her, they’d meet. In the meantime, he could keep working up his courage to talk to Simmons. 

He walked into chem class with a lot more time to spare than on Monday. 

Simmons was already there. His heart rate kicked up, and he had to wipe his palms on his trousers. 

“Hi,” he said, sliding into his desk and busying himself with pulling out his notebook. 

“Hello, Fitz,” she said, sounding prim, and he didn’t dare look at her. He’d embarrass himself for sure. “I see you have a pen today.” 

He nodded, not trusting his voice. It’d probably crack like he was twelve again. 

From the corner of his eye, he waited until her head was bowed as she reviewed a series of notecards. Finally, he allowed himself a three-second glance. 

Simmons was gorgeous. Her hair was pinned up at the sides and fell in soft curls down her back. She had a lavender blouse on that accentuated her neck and dipped down to show the barest hint of cleavage. That, along with her  jeans and red converse, made him much randier than it had any right to. 

He wanted to stick his face between her boobs and never move again. 

His cock was starting to make itself known, and he had to focus on his notebook to keep control. 

The professor thankfully walked in on time and started lecturing. Five minutes into the class and Fitz was reminded of what he liked best about Simmons, her fierce intelligence. His mind clicked over into full gear, and he rushed to impress her, trying to show her he was worth talking to. 

By the midpoint of the class, she was staring at him—which was maybe good?—while to professor drew a diagram on the board. 

“That’s not right,” Fitz murmured, and Simmons’ eyes snapped forward. 

She shot to her feet before Fitz had time to decide if he wanted to point out the error or not. 

“Excuse me,” Simmons said, marching to the front of the classroom. “That’s incorrect.” 

The professor squinted at her. “Well, according to Bartlett & Schuster—” 

“Honestly, the paper you’re referencing does not account for micro-variations in spin. And I’ve met Schuster, he’s an arse.” Jemma plucked the dry-erase marker out of the professor’s fingers. “Now allow me to just…” She erased a few things, redrew them differently, and fixed several equations. She turned to the class and spoke up. “See? By taking those variations into consideration, we can better predict how the electrical field will fluctuate and make sure that if a steady state is required, that we can overlap fields appropriately.” 

Simmons handed the marker back to the professor and returned to her seat. Fitz squeezed his eyes shut. Dear lord, he wanted to marry her. She was magnificent, a force of nature. This had gone far past being a crush. He was certain he was in love with her and about two seconds away from crashing to his knees and begging her to let him bask in her glory. 

“Well,” the professor hemmed and hawed for a moment. “Cadet Simmons is correct. I knew there were flaws in the model, but not how to adjust for them. And now…class dismissed, I need to make some changes to my work.” 

Fitz kept his eyes closed. Simmons’ mere presence was overwhelming. 

“Sorry, I put you to sleep,” she said, and he opened his eyes to find her sweeping by him as she exited the classroom. One of the other cadets grabbed her hand and shook it, and Simmons shuddered briefly before smiling at the cadet and continuing on her way. 

Fitz sighed as he gathered his things. Great. Terrific. Fantastic. She’d thought his struggle to keep his soul attached to his body from her sheer brilliance had been him being bored. 

He drifted through the rest of his day, ate dinner while watching a video on his tablet, and was returning to his room when he ran into someone. 

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Smarty-Pants,” said the guy, who was in one of Fitz’s engineering courses. He was pretty sure the guy’s name was Lloyd. And while Lloyd couldn’t be stupid, because he was at the Academy, Fitz was aware he was still brighter, and much less of a git. 

Lloyd took a menacing step towards Fitz, who immediately grabbed the hem of his cardigan sleeve. This berk could not know Fitz had a soulmate, or he’d never hear the end of it. 

“You really should try shutting up,” Lloyd said. “We all know you’re a boy wonder, emphasis on boy. Do you even shave? Have your balls dropped?” 

Fitz clenched his jaw. He’d known too many Lloyds, and it was usually better to stay quiet. 

“You might want to give the rest of us a chance in class, instead of hogging all the attention, unless you want to end up—” 

“Hey! Fitz!” 

Fitz spun towards the voice, it was his neighbor in the dorm, Jorge, who was in Ops. Fitz had spoken about three words to him so far. 

“I was just looking for you,” Jorge said. He was as tall as Lloyd but had a lot more muscle. Must be from all the chin-ups he did on that bar on his door. Lloyd glowered at the interruption, then smirked at Fitz and walked off. 

“Thanks,” Fitz mumbled to Jorge. 

He shrugged. “There’s got always to be someone who’s pissed about not being the best. I’m headed upstairs, you too?” 

Fitz nodded and followed Jorge up the stairs. Jorge chattered on about his boyfriend back home and how much he missed him. Gary sounded like a cool guy. 

They split when they reached their rooms, and Fitz sighed with relief when he locked his door behind him. It’d been a terrible day. He wanted to call it quits and go back to Scotland, but he had to make things up to Jemma, somehow. And his soulmate was here, somewhere. 

He turned on the telly and flopped on his bed, mindlessly watching baking show reruns until ten p.m. arrived along with the telltale tingle in his palm. 

He eagerly looked at the words.  _ I really like his hair. _

Fitz sat up and grinned. At least his soulmate had appreciated the effort he’d put in to look nice. 

He carefully wrote down the thought. It was good to know someone cared. 

****

_ The Next Monday _

Jemma sat in Monday’s chem class, waiting for Fitz to arrive, with her arms crossed and her muscles tense. 

She was still mad at him. She’d put herself out there, corrected the professor, and Fitz had been half-asleep. She hadn’t seen him getting up to do anything though he had known the diagram was wrong. 

Ugh. 

Why did he have to be so cute while being such an arse? His hair, trimmed and slightly curling, had looked perfect on him. And he’d been dressed smartly with his face shaved. 

She had no idea if she wanted to punch him or kiss him. 

The thoughts from her soulmate over the weekend had only added to her confusion. Who could it possibly be? Friday’s had been.  _ She’s magnificent _ . Saturday was,  _ I could sleep on her boobs _ . And Sunday had been back to,  _ what an amazing person _ . 

On Saturday she’d gone off campus and purchased several pairs of lightweight fingerless gloves. They were common since often individuals with a soulmate would end up with something inappropriate for a professional setting on their hand. It’d become enough of a trend that the majority of people who wore them were in the sixty percent of the population who didn’t have a perfect genetically compatible partner. 

For today, she’d chosen a pair that were plain black, not wanting to call attention to herself. 

Fitz hustled in with only a few minutes before class started, and collapsed into his chair with a huff, barely looking at her. He apparently hadn’t become less of an arrogant wanker over the weekend which made it unfair that he still looked kissable. His hair was neat, his shirt tucked in, and she liked the dark red tie he had on. 

Her clit throbbed. 

Damn it. Jemma couldn’t afford to be turned on in class. Hadn’t she gotten herself off enough lately? She understood it was a simple biological process, her body priming itself for when she figured out who her soulmate was. 

If she ever did. Last Friday, when another chemistry classmate had grabbed her hand and shook it for getting them out of half a class, she’d nearly brought her lunch back up on to him. She’d sprinted to her dorm room and pulled up more information on soulmates. There were lots of discussion posts about people who, like her, didn’t know who their soulmate was and how they were made uncomfortable by any touch, but especially on the palm over the words. 

Jemma had ended up in tears. Some of these people had never found their soulmates, and the words that were their soulmates thoughts had become a source of pain.  _ I wish I’d met you. Where are you? I’m so alone.  _

Even worse was when the words faded and no longer changed because their soulmate had died. 

Jemma had put her head in her hands and sobbed. She had to figure out who her soulmate was, all while dealing with the very inconvenient attraction she had to a genius who obviously hated her. 

Fitz didn’t even say hello to her, just kept his eyes on his mobile, until the professor walked in. The lecture was on dielectric polarization, which they’d be doing their first lab assignment on. The lab started Wednesday, and he’d hand out what lab and bench each student was assigned to, along with the name of their lab partners for the semester. 

She took notes during the class and accepted her envelope with a nod at the end of the period. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Fitz asked, not rushing away for once. 

She rolled her eyes at him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll look at it tonight so I know what to expect on Wednesday.” 

“Ah.” He fiddled with the envelope in his hands. “I’m, er…I wasn’t sleeping last time. I want you to know.” He slid a finger under the envelope’s flap to open it. 

Jemma sighed. “Thanks.” So he was just bored? That was so much better. 

Fitz pulled the folded piece of paper out of the envelope, his brow furrowing, he looked up at her, and she was started by how very blue his eyes were. She’d forgotten. They were a clear summer sky, or a mountain lake, or—

“I guess I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday afternoon,” he said shaking the letter at her. 

She grabbed it and looked at the words neatly printed on it. Lab 318, bench 1, Wednesday at 1 pm. Lab partner: Jemma Simmons. 

Jemma plastered a smile on her face. “I guess I will.” She shoved the letter back into his hand and Fitz picked up his rucksack, jamming the letter and his notebook inside. 

“Bye,” he said, walking quickly towards the door. Jemma watched him go, and then realized she was mostly watching his arse and dropped her gaze to the unopened envelope she was holding. It was going to be a long semester. 

Wednesday afternoon found her in her lab coat, sitting on a stool and reading that week’s experiment. It was straightforward, and she was certain she could complete it efficiently if Fitz didn’t get in her way and insist he do everything himself, which he might. 

Fitz came in, nodded at her, stowed his bag, and put on the lab coat that’d been draped over his arm. 

“How’s the lab sound?” he asked, setting a tablet on the counter. 

The normal question startled her. “Not bad. There aren’t that many complex steps, so I think it shouldn’t take more than an hour, and if one of us does the write up while the other one works, then we won’t require much extra time after that to finish up.” She bit her lip, waiting for him to argue with her. Instead, he slid the lab paper over to himself.

“Do you want to perform the actual experiment, and I can type the report on my tablet?” 

Jemma’s mouth fell open. “You’re okay with that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His face was puzzled. 

“I just thought you’d want to, I don’t know, do the chemistry part.” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“No, but I think that might change when we start in on some of the experiments that require more elaborate circuit setups.” 

Fitz tapped his fingers on the bench. “Playing to our strengths. I like it. Shall we start?” 

Jemma hopped down. “I’ll get the glassware.” Fitz nodded and immediately began calibrating the equipment they would be using that day. 

The lab progressed smoothly. Very smoothly. It was a joy working with Fitz. He knew the subject and could keep up with her easily, which was fun. A lot of fun. 

Jemma giggled as Fitz made a face when she mentioned a pertinent theory. “What’s your take, then?” The experiment was completed, and they were doing the follow-up questions before printing out the report and cleaning up their station. 

He leaned against the counter, and she swayed towards him on her stool. “Well, we’re going to get off topic if I go down that rabbit hole.” 

“I’m feeling like Alice today, go ahead.” 

Fitz launched into a speech about a competing idea, which she had to interrupt because she was sure he was incorrect with the evidence he was giving, which meant that they had to pull out notebook paper and start working things out through equations. 

The conclusion was that they both were slightly wrong. They formed their own theory, which only needed some hard numbers and they could publish it. Jemma carefully piled their papers together as Fitz typed in answers to the last several lab questions. 

“I sort of feel bad, these poor electrons not being sure which way they’re being pulled,” she said as she started disassembling the equipment. “It must be very confusing.” The lab had involved multiple electric fields and attempting to pull valence electrons to create ions. 

Fitz’s gaze rose from his tablet. “Yeah.” He rubbed his palm on his trousers. “Sounds like a lot of people.” 

She snorted. “It does. Like if you have a soulmate that’s very different from you.” 

“Ah.” He looked back down at the tablet. “Do you have a soulmate?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she said, and Fitz’s head snapped up. “It doesn’t mean he’s going to define my life.” 

“That’s a…a good attitude.” 

“Biology has a say for a while, but I won’t let it rule me.” She clenched her hand into a fist. The words on it were as sweet as always,  _ I hope she had a good day _ . But Jemma did not want to let some unknown man have power over her. “What do you think?” she asked Fitz. 

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s neat, that you can have a person meant for you, but I think I agree, if I ever meet my soulmate, I don’t want her to define me.” 

That he agreed  made Jemma happy, except that the idea of Fitz finding his soulmate and disappearing with her for a month so that they could get horizontal really bothered her, which wasn’t fair. But he’d said ‘if I ever’, so he didn’t even know if he had one. Which meant it couldn’t be her. 

Jemma ignored the ache in her chest and nodded. “I’m glad we agree. And it’s been very nice working with you today, Fitz. I thought you hated me.” 

“No!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never. I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this…talking thing.” 

She laughed, but believed his explanation. He did seem much more awkward than she’d thought. “If you say so, but you’re always ready to jump in and answer everything in class.” 

“So are you! Simmons, I was trying to impress you, so you’d talk to me so that we could be friends.” Fitz’s face flushed a deep red. It even extended to his ears. 

Jemma felt blindsided. “Oh, er…count me impressed. You’re brilliant. And yes, I would very much like to be friends.”

Fitz grinned shyly and helped her finish cleaning up the workbench. He printed the report, and they turned it in. 

“I’ll see you Friday for class?” Jemma asked as they walked down the stairs and out into the afternoon sun. It was warm for September, and she tilted her head back to enjoy the rays. 

“I’ll be there!” Fitz said, sounding almost giddy. He grinned at her again and waved with his left hand as he turned towards where Jemma guessed his dorm was. 

She felt floaty for the rest of the day. When the words on her palm changed, she wasn’t even mad it wasn’t something helpful, like ‘I live in Stevenson Hall room 42’ or ‘I really liked how you looked walking across the quad today at 1:32 pm as I stood in front of the fountain like I do every day’.

Instead, it was:  _ She’s amazing. _

She put her palm over her heart. She felt like the electrons today, pulled in two different directions. Her soulmate and Fitz. 

Jemma hated not knowing what would happen next. 


	3. Radius

The Boiler Room was packed with the music thumping when Jemma entered. It was Saturday night, and she was dressed in a little black dress she’d borrow from another cadet, wearing kitten heels, and her black fingerless gloves. Her hair was down and curled. 

She wasn’t looking for a date, she wanted to find her soulmate so they could get this over as early in the semester as possible. She couldn’t drink because the bloody Yanks thought eighteen was too young, so she ordered a coke without rum and sipped on it as she surveyed the room.  

There were a few people Jemma recognized from her classes, but none she’d ever talked to. 

After finally getting to really know Fitz on Wednesday, the chem class on Friday had been a blast. Now when Fitz answered a question she knew he was trying to impress her, and she did the same. They shared smiles over interesting things and eye rolls over what the prof either glossed over or that he had outdated material on. 

He was quickly becoming a good friend, they’d exchanged mobile information so they could text or call about homework, and Jemma had been tempted to ask him to go with her to the bar tonight. Only she was worried it would sound like a date. Maybe she wanted it to be a date, but it seemed very disingenuous to go out with him when she was supposed to be looking for her soulmate. 

Maybe she should just ask Fitz to help her find the guy, but as understanding as he seemed to be, he didn’t have a soulmate and therefore wouldn’t know how she felt. Also, asking a person you found very attractive to help you find a different person who you would spend a month sleeping with seemed wrong. She was on her own. Jemma hoped that Fitz never met her soulmate, and that after the biological need was filled, that her soulmate would be good with being friends and she could date whomever she pleased. 

There were plenty of people who did that. A soulmate didn’t necessarily have to be a life partner. Actually, she didn’t even know for sure it was a man, though judging from her fantasies she suspected it was. Nature matched genetic partners, but if you were attracted to the same gender your soulmate would be as well. Another phenomenon that puzzled scientists but not the people involved. 

Determination in place, Jemma scanned the crowd again, then sighed. No one stood out to her at all. She started making a circuit of the room, trying to see if there were any guys with writing on their right palm that weren’t obviously there with anyone. 

It was surprisingly difficult. There were a few with gloves on like hers, they were possibilities. 

On her second time around the room, a man with blond hair stepped into her path. “Hey,” he said, smiling widely. “I think you’re in my chem class? Simmons, right?” 

Jemma perked up. He was okay looking, taller than her, light eyes though she couldn’t tell the exact color in the dim and flashing lights of the bar. She was certain her soulmate had to be in one of her classes, since they often thought about how bright she was. “Yes, that’s me. Call me Jemma.” 

“You’re pretty smart, huh?” 

This was promising. “I like to think so.” 

“Could you maybe tone it down a bit? You and that dork you sit with? You’re making the rest of us look bad.” 

Jemma’s heart sank. The guy held his right hand up. There was nothing on his palm. “I suggest you try harder.” She brushed by him. Did he really think she needed to act dumber? And calling Fitz names? She was so glad that guy hadn’t been her soulmate. 

A few minutes later another man, this one with a buzz cut and looking like he was from Ops, brushed her elbow and asked her to dance. Her skin crawled from the touch and she had to decline. 

Jemma was starting to think that putting an ad in the school paper might be her best option. She casually brushed against several more guys, each touch making her feel queasier. She stood on the edge of the dancefloor, watching couples sway and holding her glass as the ice melted. 

“Why the long face?” a voice asked from behind her. A familiar Scottish-accented voice. She turned around. Fitz was standing there with two beers, looking like a lifesaver in a blue button-up with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. 

“I’m just being silly,” she said, trying to smile. 

“Doesn’t look that way. Want to sit and chat over beers?” He held one out to her. 

Jemma set her glass down on a table, surprising the two people sitting at it, and took the beer. Fitz looked pleased. “How’d you get these?” 

“There’s a guy on the same floor as me in the dorm, he’s pretty cool, and he bought me a couple of bottles.” 

Fitz led her through the crowd to an empty table squished in a back corner. She sat gratefully. Fitz popped the top of her drink with a bottle opener on his key chain. 

“It’s not as good as the stuff back home,” he said.

“At this point I don’t really care.” She took a long drink, watching Fitz out of the corner of her eye as he did the same. His adam’s apple bobbed and her toes curled. 

Damn the words under her glove, which had changed the night before to,  _ I wonder what she’s doing? _

Looking for you, she’d snipped at her palm. 

Fitz set his beer down. 

“You have any outside-of-class projects you’re working on yet?” Jemma asked, tracing her finger around the edge of a coaster. 

“Not much, but I have quite a few ideas, including a robotic monkey.” 

“What would that do?” 

Fitz leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “A lot of things. I don’t mean for it to be a pet or a toy, but something that could bypass physical security and disable it as needed. A real monkey could probably be trained to do it, but you can’t just turn them off when you don’t need them and store them in a box.” 

“They tend to get quite cranky if you try,” she said with a giggle. 

Fitz laughed. 

“What’s your primary sensory input for navigation? It’d have to be visual, wouldn’t it?” 

He nodded. “If they’re going to make leaps, like a real monkey, it does need to be primarily visual. I’m still working on how sensitive it needs to be, and I think I’ll end up needed to build the sensors myself. I’m also still working on what to put in the tail, it has to have one for balance, and it makes sense to make it prehensile, but I’m sure I can do more with it than movement.” 

“What about temperature sensing? It could easily read the air, and dip it into fluid or put it against a solid?” 

Fitz steepled his fingers. “Excellent idea.” 

Jemma took another drink of her beer. “It really is horse piss, isn’t it? Hardly any flavor.” 

“Low alcohol content too, I’m not even sure what the point is.” 

“Fitting in, I suppose.” 

Fitz studied her face. “You didn’t tell me what was wrong earlier.” 

She’d been hoping he’d forgotten. “Fitting in, as in not, is the problem. I actually had someone in our chem class ask me to pretend I was less smart.” 

Fitz’s mouth fell open. “The wanker.” 

“I think he might have been including you in that.” 

“I’m upgrading him to a right cunt.” 

Jemma giggled. “He really was.” 

“I’m sure you already know this, but you should never pretend to be anything less than yourself to please someone else.” Fitz peeled the label off his beer somewhat aggressively. 

“I do know, but I hate being told to ‘act like a lady and not make the boys feel bad’.” 

“You’ve never made me feel bad.” 

She watched as he continued to pick at the remains of the label. “That’s because you’re a genius, Fitz. We’re both very smart, and together we’re even smarter.” 

His eyes slid to her. “Yeah.” A grin spread over his face. “We are, aren’t we?” 

“I think the hundred and fifteen percent we got on our first chem lab shows that.” 

He snorted. “It would have been a hundred and twenty if you’d agreed to add the effects of gravity fluctuations to the answer to problem three.” 

“You’re probably right.” 

Fitz looked smug, so when he went to take another drink she quickly tapped the top of his bottle with hers and Fitz’s eyes widened as he had to chug the rest of his drink to keep it from going everywhere. His eyes were accusatory. 

“I thought you’d appreciate a demonstration of physics,” she said, as he finally slammed his bottle back on the table. 

He rolled his eyes. “I’m getting you back when you least expect it. Mark my words.” 

****

Fitz felt like he was flying. A single beer wasn’t enough for an alcohol buzz, but sitting and chatting with Jemma and being friends with her made him feel giddy. 

“Now, about this monkey, how dexterous does it need to be?” 

“Fully, and I want to equip it with a screwdriver and the like so it can let itself into air vents to hide.” 

“There must be a lot of parameters on threats to determine hide or not hide?” 

Simmons was the best. He grabbed a napkin and pulled a pencil stub from his pocket. “I’m working on an algorithm for that, starting with a list of—” 

“Check out the nerd.” Lloyd was suddenly looming over their table. Fitz hunched up. He did not need this right now, or ever. “Pretty girl like that is not going to be interested in you trying to impress her with math.” 

“Excuse me,” Simmons snapped. Fitz dropped his hand down and pressed it against his leg to hide the words on it.  _ He’s sexy and smart.  _

“Why don’t you come with me, beautiful, I’ve got what you need.” Lloyd winked at Simmons. 

“Why am I not surprised you’d reduce a woman down to the sum of her physical features.” Simmons crossed her arms. “Just who do you think you are?” 

“Lloyd, and this here’s Devon.” Lloyd jerked his thumb towards another mouth breather. “Devon’s in Ops. Maybe you’d be more interested in him, or do you like more than one than one guy at a time? I bet you do.” 

Simmons’ eyes widened, but her chin came up. 

Fitz shot to his feet. “Don’t talk to her like that. You’re drunk. Just leave us alone.” 

Lloyd laughed. “Big words from the nerd. And I don’t want to leave her alone.” 

Fitz wished he could disappear. If it was just him he’d run into the crowd, he was far too used to bullies, but Jemma was in the corner and he couldn’t just leave her. 

Lloyd put a hand on Fitz’s arm, which made him want to scream. It was vile. He yanked his arm away. “Don’t touch me!” 

“Or what?” Lloyd slurred. 

Fitz glared. 

Devon looked uncomfortable. “Hey, Lloyd, lets hit the bar and get a drink. You’ve messed with them enough.” He tried to tug Lloyd away, only to have Lloyd yank himself out of his grasp. 

“I don’t want to touch you anyway,” Lloyd sneered at Fitz. “I want to touch her.” He grabbed Simmons’ arm with one hand and dove down the front of her shirt with the other. Simmons squeaked as her face paled. 

Fitz didn’t stop to think, he pulled his arm back and sent his fist right into Lloyd’s cheek. The smack was very satisfying. Lloyd woozily turned his face towards Fitz. Simmons took the opportunity to stomp on Lloyd’s toes and get away from him. 

Lloyd roared, and then Fitz was seeing stars. Lloyd had punched him hard. His head spun from the impact.  

A man, built like a refrigerator, was abruptly in between Lloyd and Fitz. “Hey,” he barked. “No fighting. Both of you out.” He looked at Fitz. “You until next weekend, and learn to throw a punch.” He fixed Lloyd with a glare. “You I never want to see again.” 

Fitz was completely mortified, he’d been chatting with Jemma and then she got to watch him get kicked out of a bar. Fitz nodded, and turned towards the exit. To his surprise, Jemma came along with him, outside into the cool fall air. He should have brought a jacket. Jemma should have brought a jacket. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, leaning close to his face. 

Fitz laughed. “I just got my bell rung, so I’m a little woozy, but I’ll be fine.” 

“Thank you,” Jemma said. Her fingers hovered over his chest before falling to her side. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“It’s kind of happened to me my whole life.” 

“Getting hit in the head?” 

“Bullies.” 

“Sometimes people can be terrible.” 

He nodded, then wish he hadn’t. “I better get back to my room.” 

“Of course, and I’m coming with you.” 

“But—” 

“No buts, I need to make sure you get home safely.” 

The headache that was rapidly forming made it so he didn’t want to argue. If she hated him for having laundry on his floor, then she was a terrible friend. 

Jemma walked silently beside him back to his dorm and up the stairs to his room. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, meaning the general untidiness. 

“You don’t need to apologize for doing your best to help me. I will never understand why there are so many awful people.” 

Fitz sat on the edge of his bed. “I think he’s jealous. He’s an engineer too, but not…” 

“Not like you?” Jemma supplied. 

“Feels terrible to say it.” 

“You should say it. You’re very talented. Now, off with the trainers.” She knelt down and undid his laces. Every racy dream he’d had about her went rushing through his brain. Damn it. As soon as she was done, he lay down and pulled the quilt over himself. Jemma stood and opened his mini-fridge, pulling out a bottle of water and handing it to him as she sat cross legged beside the bed. “I’m sorry you’ve had to put up with a lot of that.”

“Haven’t you?” 

Jemma sighed. “Yes, but different, not much punching. Mostly terrible remarks, about me being ugly or unlovable, or me never getting a date because of my brain.” 

“Your brain is fascinating.” 

She smiled. “Thank you, Fitz. I hope no matter what happens, that we remain friends.” 

“Me too.” He wanted to ask her about what would happen when he found his soulmate, but this wasn’t the right time with his head so muzzy. 

“I should check your pupils.” She stood, and returned with a rag with some cool water on it and draped it over his head. Luckily, her fingers missed his skin. If she touched him and it was the same terrible feeling as Lloyd’s hand, Fitz wasn’t sure he could stand it, but she was being careful and he greatly appreciated it. 

Using the torch on her mobile, she checked his eyes. 

“You’re going to have an impressive black eye tomorrow,” she said, and Fitz groaned. “It’ll be dashing.” 

“Right.” 

She tucked him in, her face warm and caring. 

Fitz was afraid he’d already fallen in love with her. Which wasn’t fair. 

Pulling a journal out of a stack of them, she sat beside his bed again and started reading. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, confused. 

“Keeping you company,” she said. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Not at all.” 

Jemma nodded and returned to reading. 

He wanted to stroke hair, or touch a finger to her nose. There was a great deal more he wanted to do with her, but he refused to have those thoughts while she was right there. 

“This article on nanocircuitry you have marked is very interesting,” she said a few minutes later. “Are you considering practical applications?” 

“Look on my desk.” 

She did, and made a cooing noise usually reserved for babies and puppies. “It’s adorable.” He grinned, even though it made his head swim, as she bent over to examine the miniature drone he was constructing. “How did you solve the problem with the servos mentioned in the article?” 

“Took a bit of ingenuity.”

Jemma sat down beside his bed again so they could chat. 

She was asking about oil density when the clock clicked over to ten. She shook her hand and flexed her fingers, obviously having just had her soulmate’s words reach her. A sharp tingle washed down his arm too, but he refused to move it and look, not when Jemma was leaning close to him. 

Jemma was perky and cheerful, and Fitz did not think he could stand her helping him find his soulmate like she undoubtedly would if she knew. That would be entirely too weird. 

At ten thirty it was almost curfew. Jemma stood and stretched. “I have to go.” 

“Be safe, text me when you get to your dorm.” 

“I will, and text me tomorrow to let me know how you’re doing.” 

He waved at her with his left hand as she let herself out. 

Fitz waited until his phone chimed with Jemma sending him a message she was in her room before he looked at his palm. 

He read it, slammed it down against his sheets, only to slowly raise it back up to read the words again.  _ I want to fuck him into the mattress. _

His laughter was loud in his room. Maybe he’d gotten hit a lot harder than he’d thought, because there was no way anyone saw him in class or walking down the hallway and thought about shagging him. 

Sure, he was guilty of wanting to bend Jemma over any available surface, but he was an eighteen-year-old boy. She barely had to glance in his direction and he was ready to go. Like right now. His cock was hard as nails from him just thinking about screwing her. 

Terrific. 

He couldn’t go to sleep like this. 

Feeling guilty, he ignored his headache and pushed his jeans down, then off, and dragged his pants to his knees. He squirted lotion on his hand and fisted himself, the words that his soulmate had been thinking about him being dragged over his prick as he wanked, but he was only Jemma that filled his mind. 

She’d been right there, in his room, on her knees. 

That was enough fuel to make him burn like a torch. 


	4. Attraction

 

Artwork by the insanely talented AgentofShip. I can't believe how beautiful this is. Thank you for being amazing and for helping this bang have its own happily ever after for me! 

 

**

Chapter 4: Attraction

 

The little notification light on Fitz’s mobile was blinking when he woke up Wednesday morning. He grabbed it and checked the message. As he’d suspected, it was from Jemma: ‘I’ll see you in lab today!’ He could hear her saying it in her cheerful voice as she smiled. His heart thudded faster and he groaned as he became overly aware of his raging hard-on.

He quickly texted her back: ‘Can’t wait!’ because he really couldn’t. After his homework the night before he’d read a recent article about biotech just to have something to discuss with her today. He’d even ignored the tingle on his palm when the thoughts from his soulmate changed over, wanting to focus on his lab partner. And now friend.

If only his body wasn’t so damn randy. He really had to find his soulmate and get that time the hell over with. He was pretty sure Jemma would be understanding, since she’d been through it already, and then he could focus on her. Hopefully his soulmate wasn’t expecting a life of perpetual domestic bliss with him. Which wasn’t fair. He’d been expecting that before this semester.

Jemma would tell him fate should have no say in his life.

He really needed to update her on the entire having a soulmate thing. She’d help him find the person, he had no doubt. And really, it’d be to her benefit because then he wouldn’t be a fumbling virgin and could give her what she deserved.

His cock pulsed.

Right. He had to take care of that. With a sigh, he grabbed the lotion from beside his bed before looking at his palm. His soulmate’s mind had become decidedly naughty, the poor girl must be just as horny as he was.

_I want to spend hours with my mouth on his cock._

Fuck.

He closed his eyes and fisted his prick, determined to get this over with quickly. In his mind, it wasn’t some faceless shadow, but Jemma who crawled into bed with him, naked and laughing before her look turned coy and she scooted down his body to suck on him.

She probably knew some very exciting things to do with her tongue that he couldn’t even imagine and that his fumbling hand couldn’t begin to mimic.

It didn’t take him long to come, the release not very satisfying. Being alone wasn’t cutting it much anymore.

He stood, cleaned up, and got dressed for the day, carefully choosing a shirt, tie, and cardigan that coordinated. In the shared loo he carefully shaved and combed his hair, and used the aftershave that Jemma had complimented him on after class on Monday. It had been a dizzying moment, and she’d almost looked embarrassed after she’d said it, and caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she’d gazed at him. Fitz had wanted to kiss her so badly right then, but it would have been a disaster because of his soulmate. He never, ever, wanted to feel that stomach churning revulsion towards her.

He hated not having a choice. This thing that had seemed so romantic a year ago was now just a thorn in his side.

As he was packing his rucksack, his mobile rang.

Guilt flashed through him at his disappointment when he saw it was his mum and not Jemma calling.

“Hello,” he said when he answered.

“Hello, dear, just wanted to catch you this morning.” His mum sounded cheerful as always.

Fitz grunted as he bent to tie his shoes.

“Off to lab today?”

“Yeah, we’re working on something with electromagnets.”

“That’s nice, are you still partners with Jemma?”

His mum was a subtle as an air raid siren. “Yeah, course. She even texted me this morning about it.”

He could almost hear his mum beaming. He should have never told her, in quite such glowing terms, about his lab partner. His mum had zeroed in on that like a bloodhound. It wasn’t that she was not incredibly proud and understanding of Fitz and what he’d accomplished so far, but she seemed perpetually worried he wasn’t taking care of himself and if he had a girlfriend, then they could conspire together behind his back to make sure he was eating his veggies.

It was sweet and annoying, and he hated the fact that he knew without a doubt that his mum and Jemma would get on like houses on fire.

“You should ask her out.”

There was his mum being direct again. He sighed. “I want to, and I really like her.”

“I can tell.” There was a soft laugh. “What’s the hold up? Do you think she’d say no?”

Fitz scuffed his sneaker on the floor. “That not…well, she might, but she’d be nice about it. I don’t know. I think she might say yes, but I have another issue.”

“What is it?”

“I…I…Mum, I have a soulmate, but I don’t know who she is.” There was dead silence. “Mum?”

“Oh, Fitz,” his mother said.

“And Jemma’s got one, but she said she doesn’t want fate or this guy to run her life, so I think she’ll understand, but…I don’t know how to find this girl. And don’t even want to, but I have to because not knowing is driving me around the bend.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. What a bloody monkey wrench. Maybe this soulmate will be a sensible girl as well? How could you not know?”

He dragged a hand down his face. “It’s crowded here. I must have brushed her arm or something. I don’t know. But I’m…I have feelings for Jemma and there’s this completely unknown person in the way which makes me hate her even though I don’t know her and I’m pissed the hell off that once I meet her I’m probably going to like her and it’s just a mess.”

“You have to tell Jemma.”

“Oh, sure, be the voice of reason.”

His mum sighed. “She needs to know. If she has feelings for you too it’s going to hurt her that you kept this from her.”

“I know. I just…why did this have to happen?”

“I don’t know, sweets, I really don’t.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I better go so I’m not late. I let you know what happens, alright?”

“Have a good day, and tell her.”

“I will.”

Fitz trudged down the hallway, nearing running into Jorge, who clapped his shoulder. Fitz forced a smile, then hurried down the stairs and out into the crisp fall day. Excitement bubbled up in him the closer he got to the lab because Jemma would be there. He’d spend hours with her. He could spend days just talking to her.

How could he not even know her favorite color?

In the lab he donned his gear, stowed his bag, and hurried to where Jemma was already making notes on the lab.

“Hi, Fitz!” she said, and her smile made his heart soar. It also made other parts of him light up, but he forced himself to ignore them. This was a chemistry lab, not a brothel. Jemma would be so mad at him think of something besides their project, even if that something was her. She had her hair up in a high ponytail and her eyes were sparkling.

She looked lovely.

He swallowed hard. “Hey, Simmons. What do we need to get started?”

“Can you grab a set of batteries?” She pointed to where there were a bunch of six-volt lantern batteries sitting on a counter.

He grabbed two, the insistent thought that he had to talk to Simmons and tell her that he had a soulmate beating like a drum in his skull.

Only not now, he couldn’t do it right when they were starting a lab. They needed to focus on generating an electrical field.

Fitz set the batteries on their lab bench and sat down, opening his notebook and writing out the equations they’d need, desperately trying not to be distracted by the coefficients for friction and heat, which seemed a lot dirtier than they had when Simmons wasn’t right there bent over a lab table.

He kicked his foot against the bench in exasperation and Jemma looked questioningly at him.

“Just ignore me,” he muttered.

“Something wrong?”

“Not with the work.”

She nodded, frowned, and went back to setting up the experiment. Lifting his head, he watched her. Jemma was remarkable, perfect, beautiful, intelligent, fascinating. And interested in him. He didn’t comprehend the last one, but he wasn’t going to question it.

He stole a glance at his palm. At the words some unknown woman had thought about him yesterday.

Why did the universe have to curse him like this?

****

Jemma was doing her best to not stare at her lab partner.

After tucking him in on Saturday night—his eye looked much better today—she’d had a hard time not imagining a dozen scenarios where she hadn’t left him alone and instead had…she didn’t know what. In her fantasies having a soulmate didn’t factor into kissing Fitz or touching him, but in reality it would have felt terrible and then she would have had to explain herself to him. Which sounded like a nightmare.

Jemma did not want to tell her handsome and brilliant friend that she didn’t know who her soulmate was. Along with the fact that because she didn’t, she couldn’t touch him.

Ugh.

The more basic parts of her brain did not understand that and had spent hours gleefully flooding her consciousness with all kinds of touching things she could be doing with him if some terrible inconvenient other human didn’t exist.

Last night she’d come five times imagining sucking him off.

Which had been oddly specific, and she’d never guessed herself to have an oral fixation, but she was having to rethink that now.

Her soulmate was also not having sweet and pure thoughts. Under her glove she had _my face needs to be in her tits_ on her palm. Lovely, she knew her soulmate was a breast guy.

Technically, it had been a useful piece of information, and she’d worn a blouse with a much more daring neckline than normal, paired with a jumper that hugged her tightly. While she was walking around she could rule out any man that didn’t seem interested in her cleavage.

Though she had primly done up her lab coat before Fitz had arrived, not wanting to look like she had meant the wardrobe choice for him.

Which was now proving to be a problem.

Sunlight was slanting through the windows of the lab, and with the heat being generated by the electromagnetic motor, which was something they were measuring, it was all adding up to making her uncomfortable.

Fitz had unbuttoned his lab coat, and the top buttons of his shirt.

The hollow of his throat was visible and she wanted to lick…oh dear, that wasn’t helping her cool down. This was really insufferable. She stripped her gloves off and shoved them in a pocket.

“Are you okay, Simmons?” Fitz asked. “You look a bit flushed.”

She groaned and pulled open the buttons of her lab coat. “It’s blasted hot in here.”

Fitz made an incoherent squeak and she looked up to find him staring at her chest. Her nipples tightened and she was very thankful that he wouldn’t be able to see that through her bra, blouse, and jumper. He wasn’t moving. She wasn’t sure he was even breathing.

It made her grumpy, not because of what he was doing, but because if it’d been anyone else she would have guessed they were her soulmate.

With a visible effort and a sad little noise, Fitz dragged his eyes back to where they were recording the results of their experiment.

There were several moments of silence.

“Um,” Fitz finally said. “I realize this is just so we can see the processes that are involved in electromagnetic energy generation, which really we both already know, but this system is bloody inefficient.”

She had never been so grateful for an awkward attempt at shifting a conversation in her life. “Yes, rather. It’s somewhat infuriating, isn’t it?”

With a nod, Fitz yanked a blank piece of paper out of a notebook. “What materials do you think would be better suited? I can suggest mechanical improvements.”

Jemma stood next to him and rattled off far better alloys to use, which Fitz noted. The next hour, while they continued to make notations about their actual lab experiment and fielded a few questions from the prof running the lab section, they worked on designing a more compact and efficient electromagnetic power source. Fitz even pulled out his tablet and started modeling it.

The process gave her ample time to stand close to him, inhaling the mix of his scent and his aftershave that made her want to drool. Or work on an idea together, she reminded herself.

When his sleeve accidently grazed hers, she hissed and stepped away, turning her attention to the read out on a thermometer. She glanced over at Fitz a second later, only to find him frowning at his palm.

There was writing there.

Jemma’s heart sank as her stomach flipped.

Fitz had lied to her. He had a soulmate.

She either wanted to cry or punch him. It felt like her heart was shattering. He belonged to someone else, who was probably perfect and had endless legs and perfectly glossy hair. And a D cup.

Fitz wiped his palm on his coat before pulling his notebook over to him. “Are you going to give me a reading?” he asked.

Jemma really wanted to say something. The temperature, maybe. Or ask him how he could mislead her like that.

There was an ache in her chest.

She couldn’t be here. Not right now.

“Read it yourself,” she snapped, going to take a step around him and flee. She needed to be somewhere cooler and less full of Fitz.

He turned towards her, his eyes wide. “Jemma?”

“Don’t Jemma me!”

His mouth fell open. No, he did not get to be surprised or upset. With a choked cry, she took another step, but Fitz was in the way. She crashed into him. Trying to scramble away, she tripped over her own laces.

Fitz’s hand darted out and closed around hers. His right palm against her right palm.

Time stopped.

Everything else around her dropped away, except for Fitz. His too-blue eyes were full of wonder.

“It’s you,” he said.

She couldn’t speak. Could hardly think. The rush was overwhelming. It was like the entire universe had abruptly shifted into focus, but she could only concentrate on tiny pieces of it. The warmth of Fitz’s palm, the corner of his mouth, the loud rush of her blood in her ears.

How had she ever imagined she could ignore this? That is would mean nothing? Her entire being was meant to be with him. Her body, heart, and soul had always been destined for this moment.

Fire licked through her veins.

Bloody hell, she was going to screw him until neither of them could walk.

Jemma took a step closer to Fitz right as he did them same, and their bodies collided.

She gasped and fisted his shirt with her free hand as his arm went around her, holding her tight. There was a steady pulse from were their palms were joined together.

Fitz was studying her face. So much emotion swept through her that it threatened to render her unconscious. He bent down as she tilted her head back and their lips met.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

Fitz was her soulmate. Her other half. The person who was her destiny.

Of course he was, it made perfect sense.

He was perfect.

This kiss was perfect.

Jemma’s lips parted and her tongue stroked his bottom lip. Groaning, Fitz dropped the hand on her  back lower to grab her bum and pull her towards him.

Lust ripped through her.

Yes.

Why did they have so many clothes on?

She mewled and tugged at his shirt, but didn’t want to break the kiss long enough to get it off him.

Her pussy ached and her clit throbbed, and she wanted nothing more than to have him deep inside her.

Forever.

Fitz growled softly, which made her toes curl, then spun both of them and pushed her against the table. Something fell to the floor with a loud clatter, but she didn’t care. Not when Fitz was kissing her. He rolled his hips and ground his hard-on against her, making her whimper.

She needed him. Needed that part of him.

Now.

“What’s going on?” exclaimed a voice she thought she should know. “What are you two doing?”

Fitz was determinedly rocking against her and it was more than wonderful.

It was life. It was everything.

“Look at their hands, prof,” a female said, and Jemma wanted to tear the girl’s eyes out for daring to look at her soulmate.

“Well…crap,” said the first voice.

She ignored all of them and let go of Fitz’s shirt, going after the front of his jeans instead. The persistent ache between her legs needed to be attended to and she could think of only one thing that would satisfy it.

“Uh,” said some guy. “Prof, either you need to get them out of here or we all need to get out of here because otherwise we’re going to get a free show.”

“Crap!” the first voice exclaimed. “Wait!” it said from right beside them, but Jemma didn’t really want to. “Why me?” the voice said, then there was a hand on her that wasn’t Fitz’s dragging her towards the door to the lab.

Panic set in, even though Fitz was being pulled along as well.

She started to struggle as they were propelled out into the hallway.

“Stop!” the voice said, and she wrenched her lips away from Fitz’s, meaning to scream or bite whoever was daring to bother them. It was…their lab prof?

She had a moment of vertigo, then weakly asked “Lab?”

“You can make up later. I’m sticking you in the staff lounge because there’s a couch and the door locks. You’re on your own from there.”

“Okay,” Fitz said, answering for them both.

They were pushed through another door, into a small room with a worn and hideous green couch. The prof did something to the lock and slammed the door as he left.

Jemma looked up shyly at Fitz, who was staring at her mouth. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but it would have to wait.

First, they needed to fuck.


	5. Bonding

Jemma cupped her soulmate’s—her heart soared—cheek and pressed her lips to his. Their right hands were still clasped palm to palm, the sheer bliss washing up her arm making her unwilling to let go. 

Fitz would be with her forever now. 

After this first rush of being together they’d have years and years side-by-side to talk, laugh, talk some more, dream and build impossible things, and share a life. 

She was going to buy him so many birthday presents. 

And steal his cardigans to wear. 

And sleep curled up beside him. 

Jemma snogged him with abandon, her tongue playing with his. 

He tasted of toothpaste and smelled of aftershave and felt like all her hopes and dreams made into a person. 

Fitz grabbed her ass and held her still as he ground his erection against her. She moaned and arched her back to press her chest into his. Her breasts felt full and heavy and the nipples were aching. There was an incessant throb between her thighs and an empty feeling she knew without a doubt that her soulmate would fill perfectly. 

She pushed him towards the couch, and when his legs hit it, he sat down and pulled her along with him. They ended up still kissing while lying next to each other, their joined hands between them, and she let other hand to roam freely over Fitz, learning his shape. She tugged his shirt from his waistband and slipped her hand under to fan her fingers out on his warm stomach. 

He whimpered against her lips, and she stroked his tongue with hers. His hand finally moved from her hip and he trailed it up to her breast, his touch leaving fire in its wake. He palmed her breast through her jumper and she moaned. 

“I need you on my skin,” she whispered. 

Fitz’s eyes popped open. “Right, yes.” His brows drew together as he looked down at her clothes. 

“I think we’re going to have to let go for a moment to get everything off.” 

He shook his head and his fingers tightened their grip, sending a fresh wave of pleasure racing up her arm. 

Jemma panted and leaned her forehead against his. “This whole thing is very intense.” She hooked her leg over Fitz’s hip and rolled her pelvis. Even through their trousers the effect of rubbing against his cock was magic. She had never imagined such ecstasy existed and they weren’t even having sex yet. 

Fitz gasped, and his hand flew to her hip, stilling her. “J…Jemma, christ, bloody hell.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Please don’t hold whatever happens in the next few minutes against me.” 

“What?” She was very confused and he looked close to tears. 

“I’ve never done…any of this before. I have no clue what I’m doing. And I think I’m going to last about two seconds. Maybe not that if I can see your breasts.” 

All the thoughts that’d been showing up on her palm about her breasts ran through her mind. It turned out she had been wearing her low cut jumper for Fitz after all. 

Jemma kissed the end of his nose. “I haven’t done any of this before, either.” 

“Really?” He sounded complete incredulous. 

“Like you, I was busy getting my education. It didn’t leave a lot of time for dating.” Now he looked like he was going to cry again. “I think we’ll muddle along just fine for two virgins. And practice makes perfect.” 

“Er, but—” 

“We’re soulmates. This is our time. We’re barely going to remember to eat. Refractory periods are shortened. If you come, you use your fingers or tongue on me until you’re ready to go again.” 

“Shortened re-refractory periods? Really?” 

“Fitz, you knew you had a soulmate. Did you not do any research?” 

“No…I didn’t want one!” 

Jemma’s heart crashed to the floor. She let go of him and stood up, not able to face him. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Not wanted. Not wanted. Not—

“Jemma!” Fitz’s arms were around her, pulling her tight against him. “I didn’t mean…fuck. Not…” 

She wrenched away from him. “Then what did you mean?” 

He was actually crying now. “I thought you knew who your soulmate was, had already done this with them. I was the idiot who had no idea what random person he’d bumped into, and I didn’t want another person. I’m in love with you.” 

“Oh.” The world mended itself. “I…I felt the same way. I was mad there was someone thinking that much about my breasts when I wanted you.” 

Fitz wiped at his cheeks as a blush spread over them. “Your…breasts?” With a laugh, she held up her hand. Fitz went from pink to bright red. “Um, they are very nice.”

“Thank you. What have you been getting?” 

He curled his fingers over his palm. “Mostly lots of nice stuff, about how you think I’m smart. I’ve been writing it down to reread because they’re really supportive.” 

Warmth blossomed in her chest. But…wait. “Mostly?” 

“Er—” 

“Fitz, let me see.” He sighed and held up his palm towards her. She tilted her head and read:   _ I want to spend hours with my mouth on his cock. _ “Oh my.” Her face heated up. “It’s not a lie.” One of Fitz’s eyebrows went up. “Um, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing as I have, being very…turned on, frequently.” He nodded. “Last night that’s what I was thinking about, while I…you know…touched myself.” 

Fitz’s mouth dropped open. “Oh cripes.” 

“Did you think of me when you were wanking?” It suddenly seemed imperative that she know. 

“Fuck. Yes. I had that on my hand and had to toss off before I could even get up and it was you I was imagining, in my bed sucking on…yeah. Always you.” 

Jemma sighed in relief, and her gaze dropped to where his cock was still straining against the front of his trousers. Fitz was her soulmate. Her mouth watered. She grinned and raised her eyes back to his face. “I can do that!” 

“Can do wha…Jemma!” 

She dropped to her knees and eagerly undid the front of his jeans. 

“Wait,” he rasped out as she dragged his jeans down his legs. His boxers weren’t doing much to contain his prick and she wanted all of it now. Her hands faltered as she registered what Fitz had said. 

“Wait?” she echoed, looking up at him, unable to figure out the hold up. “Do I need to say I love you more explicitly? Maybe I wasn’t clear. Because I do. You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met.” 

“I…thank you, and um, I’m glad…but—” He gestured vaguely towards his groin. “What if you don’t like it?” 

Jemma ran a finger under the waistband of his boxers. “Fitz, you do realize I’m cosmically predisposed to like everything about you?” She tugged the front down slightly, following his treasure trail. 

“Did you just say cosmically predisposed? I thought you didn’t believe all that fate stuff?” 

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to me. Well…don’t listen to me that one specific time. I said that before I knew my soulmate was you, because I wanted it to be you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Now I take it all back. Fate know exactly what it’s doing and I’m going to suck your cock now.” 

Fitz yipped, but didn’t stop her as she pulled his pants down. 

His prick was jutting out toward her face, and she took a moment to examine it, having never seen one quite this close. It seemed the perfect girth and length, and her pussy pulsed in excitement. He was going to feel incredible inside her. She wiggled her hips in anticipation, but she was more interested in licking him first. The head was a deep red color, and her mouth watered as she watched a pearly drop of precum form on the end. 

Sheer joy washed through her when she realized that she was going to have her entire life to enjoy Fitz and his very nice cock. 

Jemma looked up at him. “I love it,” she enthused. Fitz started to reply, but it became a yelp as she leaned forward, fisted his prick, and sucked the head into her mouth. She lapped at it with her tongue and Fitz’s hands landed on her head. He didn’t do anything besides rest them there, but she could feel his fingers trembling. She bobbed her head a few times. 

“Jemma, uh, Jemma…I…this really isn’t going to take long.” 

She sucked harder. Fitz moaned, and then his cock was pulsing in her mouth and she was swallowing down his come. The taste and texture were somewhat unexpected, but not bad. The fact that she was doing this with her soulmate, had made him come, sent red hot lines of desire streaking through her body. The look of bliss on Fitz’s face, the twitches of his body, the sweet noises he was making as she continued to gently suck on him, were driving her towards her own peak. 

With a grunt, Fitz pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in a clumsy hug. He was crying again, but she didn’t have time to worry about that, she needed to come, now. She pushed him back toward the couch, and he sat with a startled huff, his trousers around his ankles. Shedding her trainers, jeans, and knickers, Jemma straddled him. 

Fitz was very wide eyed. “Uh-“ 

“Hang on,” she snapped and he closed his mouth. She pulled her jumper off, undid her buttons, and shrugged her blouse off, followed by her bra. 

A huge smile spread across Fitz’s face and Jemma had to bite her lip because she was almost certain it just occurred to him that he had access to her breasts. He cupped both in his hands, made a happy noise, and nuzzled his face between them. She pet his hair and let him kiss and cuddle them for a moment, but then pried one of his hands off and guided it between her legs. 

“I need to come,” she whispered and Fitz nodded, not looking up from her tits. 

His hand stroked over her pussy, but then paused. “You’re very wet,” he told her left breast. “And I don’t know how to get you off.” 

“Clit, rub.” She rolled her hips. “I’m so blasted turned on. So close. Please, Fitz.” 

To her surprise, with a last kiss, Fitz straightened up and put his arm around her. His gaze narrowed, a look she was familiar with when he was working a tricky problem. The fingers on her pussy delved between the lips and found her clit, rubbing roughly over it. 

Jemma gasped and made a frantic, high-pitched noise she would have been embarrassed about at any other time. Her hips jerked spasmodically, humping his hand as her belly coiled tight. “Fitz,” she gasped. His mouth slammed into hers, and she peaked, bliss carrying her beyond the stratosphere. 

The pleasure seemed to go on forever, and when it finally released her she found that Fitz was still softly kissing her, his hands on her back. 

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Better.” She looked deep into his eyes. Those beautiful, sky blue eyes. Her soulmate. Her match. Eight billion people and nature had decided she and Fitz were meant for each other. She hadn’t needed nature to tell her that. 

“Uh, good,” he said. “Um…you were right.” 

Jemma bit her lip. “About what?” She liked being right, but had no idea what he meant. 

Something poked her thigh. 

She looked down at his renewed erection. She’d never been happier to be right. 

“Do you think we could—” 

Jemma didn’t let him finish before she positioned the head of his cock at her opening. “We could…this?” 

He nodded, staring down between their bodies. “Please.” 

She sank down, so slick that Fitz’s cock slipped in easily. It didn’t hurt, which she’d been expecting, just felt odd. She continued until they were flush together, their pubic hair intermingling. 

Fitz’s chest was heaving. “Jemma. You feel so bloody good.” She pressed her forehead to his, reeling from being joined with her soulmate. Her life. Her heart. Her future. She was full of entire universes of love for him. “Do you feel good?” 

“I love you so much,” she whispered. 

Fitz’s hands curled around her waist. “That’s not what I asked, but I love you too.” 

“I…I don’t know if it feels good yet. It’s too new. But I can’t imagine being this close to anyone but you.” 

His eyes closed. Jemma put her hands on the back of the couch and used them for leverage as she raised and lowered herself. Fitz moaned, so she did it again. 

“Stop,” he whispered, and she did, waiting as Fitz figured out what to say. “If this isn’t good for—” 

“Oh, now you stop.” 

Fitz peeked at her with one eye. 

“Look,” she said. “This is incredibly emotionally overwhelming. It’s amazing. I couldn’t have ever dreamed of how I feel about you, but this is still my first time. You didn’t hurt me, but I’m not expecting to come right now. Just let me get used to the feeling.” 

Fitz nodded. He kissed her softly, then with more force. Concentrating, she worked on figuring out how to move and get a rhythm going. It wasn’t easy. Though Fitz’s moans drove her on. 

She’d just started to get the hang of it when he grabbed her arms and pushed her back. “This isn’t going to work for me,” he said, making a face.

“Am I doing it wrong?” Panic started to creep in. 

“Not that, but you’re not getting anything out of this. I’m not the kind of person that would just be okay with that.” 

“But...I am.” How could he not see that she was nearly glowing she was so in love. For the first time she felt like she knew what the picture on the box was of the puzzle that made up her life. “Being joined with you is very profound.” 

He kissed the corner of her mouth. “I want to make it…profounder.” 

She smiled at him. “I’m not sure that’s up to you. Give me a chance to get used—”

Fitz made a sound that was almost a growl and wrapped his arms around her as he twisted their bodies to the side. The fabric of the couch was rough against her bare back, and losing Fitz’s cock inside her made her whimper and reach for him. He pushed her knees apart and settled between them, looking fierce as he thrust back inside her. 

She sighed in relief, gazing up at him. He didn’t move his hips, just slid his right hand along her right arm, grasped her wrist and moved her arm up, bending her elbow so her forearm was resting on the couch above her head. His hand moved down further, grasping hers. Their palms and soul marks pressed together. 

Heat raced up her arm and shot down to her groin, where it turned her uncertainty at the new feelings into pure bliss. 

Jemma gasped and raised her hips, needing Fitz to bloody well move. 

He looked smug, but then his eyes fluttered closed and he groaned, his hips jerking. She rolled hers, and while they moved artlessly and frantically, it felt so wonderful Jemma didn’t care. 

Her body tightened, and she stopped breathing right before she came. Fitz kissed her and his fingers tightened around her hand. The sheer bliss of the orgasm overwhelmed her, she clung to Fitz, needing him to anchor her. He grunted and thrust furiously as he joined her. The pulse of his cock as he came drove her right back up and over the edge and she keened and her legs shook as she came again. 

When it let her go, she sagged against the couch and Fitz collapsed on top of her. They had to let go with their hands, and she wrapped her arms around him while he panted against her neck. 

“Brilliant idea,” she said after a moment. Fitz grunted. “And there’s a lot of interesting biological phenomena occurring with this link. I really shouldn’t have come that last time, but I think your orgasm triggered another for me.” She stroked her toes up and down his calf. Fitz grunted again. “I need to write this down, so we can explore and document what happens. It’s all very exciting.” 

Fitz rolled to the side, so his back was against the couch, and while she missed his cock as soon as it wasn’t inside her, she was determined to record at least a few observations. She hunted around the room, where there was an ancient coffee maker and wheezing minifridge. Spying a milkcrate with office supplies, she bent over to search for pen and paper. The trickle of come down her leg surprised her, though she suppose it shouldn’t have. She was going to need tissues soon. 

Locating a half-used legal pad and a pen, she straightened up and turned around, only to find Fitz sitting on the edge of the couch, his hair sticking in all different directions, and his hand swiping up and down his already hard again cock. 

Her palm tingled. 

She dropped the paper and pen, and hurried back to her soulmate. Fitz held out his arms to her and she crashed into him, nearly crying with relief at touching him again. 

Observations were simply going to have to wait. 

Jemma had more important things to do first. 


	6. Spin

Fitz had no idea at all how long he’d been in the tiny room on the green sofa with Jemma, not that he really cared. This was the first day of several weeks where they would have to worry about nothing but each other. 

He’d also lost track of how many times he’d come. 

This soulmate thing was really impressive biologically. Jemma was right. 

Like usual. 

She never had written anything down, and he’d known it was a lost cause the instant she’d bent over the milk crate. He’d just lost his virginity, after coming in her mouth,  felt completely wrung out, and then he’d seen her pussy glistening and his come leaking out and his cock has sprung back to attention. 

Fitz hadn’t known what he’d do if Jemma hadn’t immediately rushed to him as soon as she’d seen him. He was also delighted that if he wanted her to come, he just had to grab her hand. It was like an orgasm button. How cool was that?

“We need to get something to eat,” Jemma said, yawning. “And water. A lot of water.” 

“Yeah.” His mouth was dry and he thought he was hungry, but it was hard to tell around all the joy of holding a naked Jemma. “I’m going to close my eyes and you get dressed, then throw me my clothes and I’ll do the same.” 

“I’m going to close my eyes right now anyway. You have no idea how attractive you are.” 

He wanted to argue the point, but it did chuff him that even peeking at him would be enough to make her horny again. 

They managed to get all their clothes on, and carefully unlocked the door. The hallway was deserted and the ancient analog clock read 7:30. He stared at it uncomprehendingly. “We missed dinner.” 

“I suppose, but at least someone remembered our bags.” 

Fitz looked down, surprised to see Jemma’s satchel and his rucksack sitting right outside the door. There was a plastic bag on top. Jemma picked it up and opened it. She squealed and thrust a water bottle at Fitz. 

Unscrewing the cap, he drank the entire thing without stopping. Jemma did the same, then handed him a snickers bar while she tore into a bag of trail mix. 

“There’s a note, too,” she said around a mouthful. Unfolding it, her eyes went wide. “We owe our chem prof a lot.” 

“Read it.” His words were muffled by the huge bite of heavenly chocolate and caramel he was chewing. 

“Dear Fitz and Simmons, Congratulations. I’ve contacted the Academy’s housing department and you two have been assigned room 106 in Roosevelt Hall. Housing will have generated emails to all your professors to excuse your from all classes for a month, though work will be sent to your emails if you have time to attend to it. Don’t worry about the lab, I’ll send you data sets and questions to make up. I’m well aware this is easy material for both of you.” Jemma looked up at Fitz. “It’s signed ‘Your not-very-surprised Prof.’

“That was nice of him.” Fitz looked at the empty candy wrapper he was holding. “Is there another?” She gave him a bag of M&M’s, which he tore open. “Roosevelt is the soulmate dorm?” 

Jemma nodded. “Bigger rooms, soundproofing, private bath.” 

“Excellent.” Images of Jemma with water cascading down her in the shower dancing through his mind. “Shite.” He shouldered his bag. “We need to get what we can from our rooms and get over there.”

“Shower?” she said with a cheeky grin. 

He nodded. “And bed. And floor. Against the wall. Over the desk—” 

“C’mon!” she chirped, grabbing her bag and hurrying down the hall at a fast clip. 

They stopped at her room first and she filled a duffle with clothes, toiletries, her laptop, and several books. She did not take his suggestion that she wasn’t going to need knickers. 

In his room, he frantically packed his computer, whatever clothes he could find, as many of his tools as would fit, and carefully put the tiny drone he’d been constructing into Jemma’s hand. She cradled it lovingly and held it for him as he considered if he would need any of his textbooks any time soon. 

“Hey Fitz,” Jorge said, leaning against the doorjamb. He frowned at the bag Fitz was holding. “Are you moving out?” 

“Er, not exactly.” Fitz was having a hard time not pushing Jorge out of the room, feeling like he was standing too close to Jemma, which was illogical but he was completely unable to tamp the feeling down. 

Jorge studied Jemma, whose bag was at her feet. “I think I’m missing something.” 

“Who are you?” Jemma snapped, and Fitz turned towards her, surprised at her tone. She slid over to stand between Jorge and Fitz. 

“Um, I’m Jorge, Fitz’s across-the-hall neighbor.” 

“Well, you aren’t now.” 

Jorge’s face fell, and he actually look scared as Jemma took a step forward. Now she really was too close to him. Fitz grabbed the back of her shirt and pulled her flush against him, trying not to growl. 

“Okay.” Jorge held up his hands. “I’m really missing something. Care to enlighten me?” 

“Um, Jorge, this is Jemma, she—” 

“Wait, the Jemma? The amazing and brilliant one?” 

Fitz was momentarily distracted as Jemma’s hips wiggled, but he managed look back up at Jorge. “Uh, yeah. And my soulmate.” His cock had responded in the predictable manner to her grinding. 

Jorge’s mouth dropped open. “Shit, why didn’t you lead with that. Congrats. When you can think straight again come and talk.” 

Jemma bristled. “If you think—” 

“I’m not going to try and take him,” Jorge said with a laugh. “I get it, and you’re kind of scary. I promise, he’s just a friend.” 

Jemma relaxed a fraction under Fitz’s hands. “Okay, and I’ll apologize later when I don’t feel the pressing biological need to disembowel you” 

“Noted.” Jorge waved and disappeared. 

“We really need to get to Roosevelt,” Jemma said. “I wanted to kill him.” 

“I know, it was really hot.” He undid his trousers. Jemma looked over her shoulder at him, then set down the drone and hurried to close the door. He was right behind her and the second it was shut he was pushing her face first against it. He knelt and dragged her jeans and knickers down. 

Jemma moaned and spread her legs. Since he was eye level with it, Fitz leaned forward and licked her pussy, clit to opening. She smelled and tasted like a combination of him and her and it was immensely comforting. She had to be his. Had to be. His hands gripped the back of her thighs and he licked harder, wanting her to come. 

“Fitz,” she said. “Please…Fitz.” 

That was better. When he’d walked out his room that morning to go to chem lab, he’d really had no idea he was going to be back later with a mostly naked Jemma saying his name while he ate her out. This day had been the best ever. 

Jemma was mewling and her thighs were tensing under his fingers, which meant she was close. 

He knew what it felt like when she came. He could make her come. 

Fuck. 

There was nothing that was going to ever compare to that. Not all the accolades and Nobel prizes in the universe. 

His cock was straining against his trousers, and he undid his zip, giving himself room. 

“Fitz,” Jemma moaned again, but this time it turned into a wail as she came. His cock jerked, and he stood, freeing himself as Jemma bent over further, pushing her arse towards him. 

He positioned himself behind her and thrust in. Jemma mewled and the door banged against the jamb. “You feel so good,” he muttered. “Hot, slick, and so right. Does it feel right to you too?” 

“God, yes. Need you, need you, need you.” 

He doubted he could have stopped anyway. The desire to be in her was far too strong. His fingers were gripping her ass, kneading her as he pistoned. 

She trembled and came again, moaning loudly. He liked all her pleasure-noises so much, liked being the cause of them. 

Abstractly he was also aware their lives were going to be intensely intertwined from here on out. Living together, sharing meals, hopefully working together on joint projects.  That was going to be the best. After fucking her. 

He was tightening, racing towards his peak. Jemma was rocking and pushing back against him, driving him higher. 

She was his heaven and earth. 

Fitz came with a harsh grunt, spilling inside her. The bone deep sense of rightness increased tenfold. He’d been made to fill her up, and he grinned at accomplishment as he pulled out of her and white cum rushed from her opening to douse her swollen pussy. 

Nature wanted what it wanted and he was happy to—

“Shite,” he cursed as Jemma tugged up her trousers. 

“What?” 

“Um…we’ve been having sex for ages.” 

“I am aware, it was a bit hard to miss.” 

“Without protection.” 

Jemma’s nose wrinkled. “I thought you were a virgin? How could you possible have an STD?” 

“Not that,” he said, raking a hand through his hair. His instincts were arguing with his rational mind. She was supposed to get pregnant. Part of him really wanted her to, the rest knew this wasn’t the time. “I have condoms, somewhere in here.” 

She was still frowning, but then her expression softened. “I’m on birth control. I want a family with you, but not right this moment.” 

Fitz was immensely relieved. “Me too.” 

“See? We’re on the same page, like always.” 

He kissed her. 

****

They’d managed to haul their trousers back up after just the one time, and Fitz was hoping they hadn’t been too loud, though he doubted anyone would have missed the way his door had been rattling in its frame. 

They were walking quickly towards Roosevelt, Jemma caring the drone on her palm while he looked up the door codes to their new place. “Hey,” he said. “We can request they box and bring over the rest of our stuff.” 

“Good, because I’m not planning to leave for a while. Meal delivery is really a highlight.” 

Fitz was planning on spending weeks with no clothes on, so he was glad Jemma seemed to be in agreement. He bumped her shoulder with his, and she grinned. 

“Hey, shouldn’t all babies be at home in their cribs?” said a voice. 

Fitz froze, grabbing Jemma’s arm. He hadn’t seen Lloyd since the Boiler Room incident, but had gotten an email that disciplinary action had been taken against him. Fitz really didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now, not with his soulmate in tow. 

Lloyd, beer bottle in hand, sauntered over to where Fitz and Jemma were standing. 

“What do you see in this loser,” Lloyd said to Jemma. “He can’t be that good in bed.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “He’s my soulmate.” 

Lloyd laughed. “Well, doesn’t that beat all. Only way some nerd like you could get a hottie like her.” 

Jemma frowned. “I have two doctorates, though neither one is in putting up with arseholes. Shove off.” 

“Don’t think so. See, I’m a legacy cadet. My Dad was in SHIELD and he was pissed when the Academy called him because some wuss couldn’t take a punch. Cut off my funds. I think I deserve something for my troubles.” He eyed Jemma.

Fitz’s stomach dropped. “Don’t touch her.” 

“Fitz, I can take care of myself.” 

“I know, but…just don’t touch her.” 

Lloyd laughed and grabbed Jemma’s wrist, trying to tug her towards him.

Fitz’s first instinct was to attack, but he knew he’d end up being the one hurt. 

Even with revulsion churning his stomach, he looked around for a solution. His mobile was in his hand. His mobile that had the program to control the drone. 

He unlocked the screen, opened the app, and started up the drone. It buzzed and flew out of Jemma’s hand to hover right in front of Lloyd’s face, who stared at it in confusion. 

Jemma pulled herself from his grip. “Don’t move,” she said. 

“Or what?” Lloyd batted at the drone, but Fitz easily kept it out of his reach. 

“It’s a project we’re working on to gather intelligence. It finds a target, releases a swarm of nanobots into their ear, and broadcasts back to base.” 

Fitz turned on the tiny laser pointer on the drone’s underside, letting it pass over Lloyd’s face. He looked horrified. 

Jemma continued. “Our biggest problem is that it always kills the person right now.”

“And that it seems to fixate on a target,” Fitz added. “I’m trying to work on that. But if it acquires a target—” he made the laser pointer flash “—and even if I try to reprogram it, the damn thing keeps going back to whatever it decides is its primary focus.” 

Lloyd took a step back. “That…but…” 

“Special project for the Director,” Jemma said with a shrug. “High priority. Collateral damage is acceptable.” 

Fitz directed the drone towards Lloyds ear. 

“Keep that fucking thing away from me,” he yelled, taking off like a shot and running into the darkness. 

Jemma caught the drone, that was equipped with exactly nothing besides the laser pointer, and Fitz shut it down. 

She laughed. “I’m a terrible actress. I don’t know how he bought that.” 

“You were great, and he bought it because he really does think we’re smart enough to develop swarms of mind reading nanobots.” 

“Maybe not that, yet, but this drone is amazing.” She smiled widely at him, the light from a nearby post making her hair gleam.

“It’s not a fully articulated robot monkey, but it’s a start.” 

She held up the drone on her palm. “The weight to lift ratio is impressive.” 

“It kind of is.” 

She rubbed her thighs together. “Fitz, we really need to get to our dorm now.” 

He nodded and they practically ran the rest of the way, punched in the codes, and found their room. It was probably nice, for a dorm, but he didn’t know because they hadn’t bothered finding the light switch before dropping everything and pulling their clothes off. 

Fitz kissed his soulmate, and Jemma’s arm twined with his, bringing their palms together. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Jemma gasped as they sank to the floor. “I always thought the first day of school was my favorite, but now it’s this one.” 

“Any day with you is my favorite.” 

****

Jemma woke the next morning, thankfully in the bed. They’d eventually turned a lamp on last night and located the mattress, which had already been made up. 

The sheets were starchy, the pillows flat, but it was alright because she was with her soulmate. Jemma was on her back, and she stretched. Fitz, on his stomach, stirred beside her, then scooted over to press his side against hers. 

“Sleep,” he murmured. 

“I want to see what our hands say,” she said. There was just enough light filtering in around the blinds to let her read. 

Fitz rolled over onto his back and held his hand up, palm facing away from him. She did the same, and they turned their hands over at the same time. 

Jemma smiled. Hers read  _ I love her _ . Fitz had  _ I love him _ . 

“I like when the universe gets things right,” she whispered. Fitz yawned. “I’m going to need to call my parents later, what about you?” 

“It’s just my mum, but I don’t want to think about that now.” 

He turned on his side towards her and cupped her breast. 

“You absolutely correct,” she said, her back arching. Fitz rolled on top of her and nuzzled her neck. 

She grinned. 

A lifetime of Fitz and science sounded absolutely, completely, entirely, perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I've been waiting so long to share this story!! I hope you enjoyed :-D 
> 
> -May 5, 2019, 1112, in my living room


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